Chapter 65
Summer's POV
The last bell rang, and I watched Kieran's empty seat like it might suddenly fill itself. Four days now. Four days of that chair staying cold while everyone else shuffled in and out.
I shoved my textbook into my bag, trying not to look obvious about checking his desk one more time. Still empty. Obviously.
"He's basically living in the science building now," Mia said, catching me staring. She zipped up her pencil case with a knowing look. "Competition team's in full lockdown mode. Seven in the morning until nine-thirty at night. They only come out for lunch."
My chest tightened. "Every day?"
"Every single day." She slung her bag over her shoulder. "Logan told me they're preparing for some big qualifier thing. USAPhO? I don't know, physics people are intense."
I nodded, already doing the math in my head. If training ended at nine-thirty, and I knew exactly where the competition classroom was...
"Summer." Mia's voice had that careful tone. "Whatever you're planning, maybe don't?"
"I'm not planning anything."
"You're doing that thing with your hands." She pointed at my fingers, which were twisting the strap of my bag into knots. "You always do that when you're about to do something impulsive."
I forced my hands still. "I just want to return his test paper. Ms. Thompson gave it to me to pass along, remember?"
"Uh-huh." Mia didn't look convinced. "And the fact that you've been carrying it around for three days like it's the Declaration of Independence has nothing to do with wanting to see him?"
My face went hot. "I'm just being responsible."
"Sure." She bumped my shoulder gently. "Just... be careful, okay? I know you care about him, but he's going through a lot right now. With Tyler and all those jerks spreading rumors..."
"I know." My voice came out quieter than I meant it to. "That's exactly why I need to—" I stopped myself. "I'll be careful."
Mia studied my face for a long moment, then sighed. "Text me when you get home?"
"Promise."
---
By the time I made it to the science building, the November sky had gone dark and the temperature had dropped about fifteen degrees. I pulled my St. Jude's jacket tighter and checked my phone. Nine-twenty. Ten more minutes.
The building looked different at night. During the day it was all busy hallways and slamming lockers, but now it was just empty and echoey, with only the third-floor windows still lit up. I could see shadows moving behind the glass. One of them had to be Kieran.
I'd told myself I wouldn't go up. That I'd just wait down here like a normal person and catch him when he came out. Going upstairs would mean interrupting, would mean making a scene in front of everyone, would mean embarrassing him in exactly the way he hated most.
So I stayed put under the streetlight, shifting my weight from foot to foot, trying to keep warm. The white plastic bag in my arms crinkled every time I moved. I'd checked the contents about six times already, but I checked again anyway.
Organic milk. The kind that didn't need refrigeration. Organic peanut butter cups because he'd mentioned once that regular peanut butter made him feel sick. Protein bars. A couple of those mini chocolate cakes from the fancy bakery near my house. And tucked at the bottom, a folded note congratulating him on his perfect score.
I knew he'd probably hate this. Hate that I was here, hate that I'd brought food, hate the implication that I thought he needed taking care of. But I also knew he was running himself into the ground up there, surviving on energy bars and whatever cheap stuff the vending machines sold.
Energy bars aren't dinner. That's what my mom always said when I tried to skip meals. You can't think straight when you're hungry.
And Kieran needed to think straight. He needed to ace these competitions, get into that national team, get the scholarship money for Lily's surgery. He needed everything to go perfectly, which meant he needed to actually eat real food sometimes.
Even if he'd never admit it.
The third-floor windows suddenly went dark. My heart jumped. Nine-thirty exactly.
I heard voices echoing down the stairwell, footsteps on the stairs. My hands tightened on the plastic bag. This was stupid. This was so stupid. He was going to think I was stalking him. He was going to—
Logan appeared first, backpack slung over one shoulder, looking exhausted. He almost walked right past me before doing a double-take.
"Summer?" He blinked like he wasn't sure I was real. "What are you doing here?"
"I—" My voice came out squeaky. I cleared my throat. "I need to talk to Kieran. Is he—"
Logan's expression shifted to something between surprised and amused. He glanced back at the stairwell, then at me, then broke into a grin. "Oh man. Yeah. Yeah, hold on."
Before I could stop him, he turned and shouted up the stairs. "Kieran! Someone's here for you!"
My face immediately caught fire. Several other students appeared behind Logan, craning their necks to see who was causing the commotion. I heard someone laugh. Someone else whispered something I couldn't make out.
Then a girl's voice, loud and mocking: "Is it that Back Bay girl again?"
I wanted to sink through the sidewalk. This was exactly what I'd been trying to avoid. But it was too late now because Kieran appeared at the top of the stairs, and even from here I could see him freeze when he spotted me.
---
Kieran's POV
She was standing under the streetlight like something out of a movie I'd never be able to afford tickets to.
The cold had turned her cheeks pink. Her honey-colored curls were messy from the wind, falling around her face in a way that made my fingers itch to touch them. She was clutching a white plastic bag to her chest, and her eyes—those ridiculous honey-brown eyes—were locked on me with an expression I couldn't read. Nervous. Hopeful. Determined.
Beautiful.
The thought hit me so hard I almost missed a step.
Her lips were slightly parted, probably from the cold, and they looked—
No. Stop.
But my brain wouldn't stop. It kept going, kept noticing things I had no business noticing. How her lips looked soft and pink like summer strawberries. How I wanted to know if they tasted sweet. How I wanted to walk over there and find out, wanted to cup her face in my hands and see if her skin was as warm as it looked, wanted to pull her close and—
"Dude." Logan's voice snapped me back. "You gonna go down there or just stare at her all night?"
Heat crawled up my neck. Behind me, I heard Tyler's voice, low and mocking: "Better not keep your sponsor waiting, Cross."
My jaw clenched. I forced my feet to move, forced myself down the stairs even though every instinct was screaming at me to turn around and run. Because this—whatever this was—felt dangerous. Felt like something that could crack me open if I wasn't careful.
Summer's face lit up when she saw me coming. Actually lit up, like someone had switched on a light inside her. It made my chest hurt.
"Hi," she said breathlessly when I reached the bottom. "I'm sorry, I know you're probably tired, I just—I wanted to give you something."
I kept my expression carefully blank. "How did you know I'd be here?"